Not You Too!
by serpentine17ice
Summary: ATTENTION PEOPLE! REVISED VERSION! REREAD FROM THE BEGINNING AGAIN, BECAUSE IT'S A BIT DIFFERENT! AU. 'I'm going to do everything I can to win you and your trust, Granger.' he said. 'Even if it means going to the library and giving myself a headache.'
1. The Nightmare of the Pixilated Corpse

**Disclaimer: No fictional character in this chapter resembles any person from the World of Reality. Because if they did, pixies would be drunk and the crickets would stop chirping.**

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**The Nightmare of the Pixilated Corpse**

'_DEARLY BELOVED, WE HAVE GATHERED TODAY TO MOURN THE LOSS OF ONE OF THE GREATEST WIZARDS IN HISTORY.' Dressed floating robes of gentle pink and speaking in CAPS LOCK, Lucius Malfoy's pale blond hair curled up to resemble a wig of the eighteenth century._

_Many dark robed people were moaning, crying and groveling in a circle around a marbled coffin beset on a yellow-brick-road. Fluttering birds twittered about while white clouds lazily promenaded the bright blue sky._

'_HIS NOBILITY OF SPIRIT, GENEROSITY AND CREATIVITY OF WORDS MADE HIM THE BEST…'_

_Outside the ring of black robed mourners, a tall and malnourished-looking boy stood. He had a messy hedge of jet black hair, green eyes the shape of almonds and a lightening bolt scar on the right-side of his forehead._

_The Reader reading the first chapter had a nagging suspicion that the scar should be in the _middle.

'… _WORDS OF WISDOM AND HONORABLE…'_

_He was frowning rather too much and was not crying like all the others. Rather, he was thinking that this place didn't seem, somehow, _real _enough._

_The Reader knew better than to shout the answer to him, so the Reader kept quiet._

_Everything _appeared _normal – the speech bubbles issuing from Lucius Malfoy's mouth, the obvious references to pieces of other fiction – but he felt that it was somehow important to find the answers. It was like something outside the boundaries of his world was urging him to become a detective of obvious questions and find the answers._

Find the answers, _the narrative echoed._

_Why did the mourners have no faces? Why was the coroner Lucius Malfoy of all people? And most importantly, why was Lucius Malfoy dressed in floating robes of gentle pink?_

_He tried pushing in to get a closer look at the open coffin, but nobody would budge for him._

_In frustration, the Reader tried to _change _the text to make it easier for the character, but the Reader could not prevail against something written by _Someone Else.

'… _HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS…'_

_Like Miss Clavel thought in every animated episode of 'Madeleine', _something was not right.

What was going on?

_He argued with himself, delaying his actions. Replacing a second with a minute and a minute for several minutes._

_The Reader became a bit bored because the plot was starting to go around in circles. Any time now, the Reader would turn and read something else._

_The boy sighed. He knew what was happening now and if it all went the right way, then this would be a dream. He knew that now. Everything was a dream. It was _all so clear now.

_He shouted his catchphrase:_ '_EXPELLIARMUS!' _

_His wand fizzled and melted away into nothingness and he looked on with despair. It was a good wand. It wasn't supposed to just melt. The grey robed mourners turned around._

_The Reader understands now what is going on. Yes? The Reader noticed that the robes were originally black, and not grey. Was it an ERROR OF TYPING? Or was it really, as the Main Character known as Harry Potter realized earlier, was it really… _just a dream?

'… _WE WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HIM – ALBUS DUMBLEDORE.'_

_The dimly-colored robed mourners all moved, one-by-one, to one side, their faces hidden and hard to see._ _Lucius Malfoy stood there for a few seconds longer, cleared his throat and with a swish of his pink dress, vanished._

_For a couple of sentences, no one moved. The Reader reads on with a trickle of forced dread, as the Protagonist of the story stepped forward for his turn to look at the coffin._

_He moved forward and let out a loud and capable-of-being-heard gasp._

_It couldn't be. That sentence was redundant! _

_The corpse's features were indistinguishable. And yet, he could tell that they did not belong to who they were meant to belong. Its face was oddly distorted, various parts resembling pixilated people from poor quality computer photographs._

_The Reader sighs, wishing that the boy would just wake up. Because as soon as that happens, the Reader will no longer be integrated into the Story._

_But even with its demented face, there was no mistaking who the corpse really was. It was… The Antagonist. His eyes suddenly opened and looked up at the boy._

_His thin bloodless lips curled open, gaping, showing rows and rows of small jagged teeth, forming a macabre grin._

_Suddenly, the corpse uttered a horrible screech which, technically, didn't actually seem to come from him or anywhere near him. It seemed to come from every one of the ebony robed mourners and from afar._

_Unlike Lucius Malfoy, he rasped and spoke in _underlined non-italic lower case letters_. After all, he was special._

'that's all there is, there isn't any more._'_

_And all the mourners at the funeral, all those strange faceless people, started cackling._

0o0o

Harry James Potter woke up in his dormitory, encased with damp sweat. He looked around searching for something, looking for _you_. The scar in the middle of his forehead was searing and now, given a reason, he was _really _afraid.

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**A/N: Okay, I know you must be really confused, so I'll explain. I tried to make the first chapter – a dream sequence – a parody of comic books. That explains for the whole 'talking in Caps Lock or non Caps Lock' thing. Secondly, I tried to include you, the reader, into the fiction. Yes, I tried to incorporate something outside the realms of fiction into the story. And there's nothing else to say. Try to solve everything else yourself.**

**And by the way, this story originally had FOURTEEN reviews, but I was dissatisfied because I was running out of ideas. I actually cried from the anger of it all. So I deleted everything, and wrote something in its place. Please make the reviews something more than the number FOURTEEN. Please.**


	2. Protecting a So Far Unprotected Witness

**Disclaimer: Okay, I lied. The 'Reader' is going to be included in this story forever. In some intervals, that is. And this isn't a disclaimer.**

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**Protecting a So Far Unprotected Witness**

'Harry, slow down,' said Hermione soothingly, 'just tell us again what that dream was about. You were a bit incoherent last time.'

'Okay. I will start again.' Harry took a huge breath and explained. 'I had a nightmare. It sort of resembled, no wait, _felt _like a comic book. In it, Dumbledore died. And Lucius Malfoy was dressed in pink robes and was conducting the funeral. And I was "The Protagonist". And there was this "Reader" who knew what was going to happen, but I couldn't interact with her. Or him. I think the "Reader" was genderless. And then I talked. And everything stopped and Malfoy vanished. And my wand melted. And I looked at the coffin, and it contained "The Antagonist" who was Voldemort.'

At that name, Ron choked on his milk while Hermione ignored him.

'And then you woke up and your scar started to hurt…' she said thoughtfully, while Ron continued spluttering.

'Yeah. The funny thing was, I had this feeling that the "Reader" was still there with me. Only I couldn't see her. Or him. What the hell did it mean? Has Voldemort come back to life? Or is this dream trying to tell me something, because I have _never _had a dream like this before.'

Harry set his head on his aching arms and breathed in the comforting scent of the breakfast table. Which was also the same table as the lunch one and the dinner one. He could smell all three previous meals of yesterday. Finally, something ordinary.

'Maybe you shouldn't have told Dobby you fancied ice-cream,' suggested Ron, who had finished his choking fit.

At the mention of this _particular _piece of house-elf labor, Hermione forgot about the dream and narrowed her eyes. 'Did you pay him, Harry?'

Before Harry could raise his head and lie a positive 'yes', there came a vague and dreamy 'Hello,' from behind them. It was Luna.

'I just came to warn you guys that you shouldn't eat ice-cream before bed. It can cause The Lurid Raipur to give you a nightmare.'

'Thanks Luna.' Came Harry's muffled reply.

'Potter's been having nightmares?' The jarring voice of Draco Malfoy came. He was strangely unaccompanied by neither the flanking figures of Crabbe and Goyle, who were busily stuffing themselves with bacon at the Slytherin table, nor the simpering figure of Pansy Parkinson. 'Did you say _Potter's _been having _nightmares_?'

'Shut up Malfoy,' said Harry, while secretly wondering what Malfoy would look like in pink robes. Would he resemble his father in any way?

**_The Reader notices how Hermione seemed to have ignored Ron. The Reader knows that this is a Dramione fanfic and wonders if this is a device for Hermione and Ron to separate. The Reader also wonders if this fanfic will become cliché and sappy._**

'Aw, how sad. Is ickle baby _Hawwy Potter_ having nightmares abwout big _scawy _Dementors?' smirked Malfoy mockingly, not having heard the earlier bits of the conversation.

Hermione rose to the rescue, having forgiven Harry for not paying Dobby, because she knew that he didn't.

'Well, Malfoy, better than having to wake up and realize "Damn! I'm still a near-albino ferret with no life and no plans apart from just trying to ruin the lives of people better than me!"'

He stopped smirking immediately. 'Watch your tongue mudblood. Don't want to come to a sticky end, do you?'

'Voldemort's gone, Malfoy. Your pathetic overlord's arse, of which you kiss, is gone.'

**_The Reader wonders if these hot-tempered sentences are any indication of 'sexual tensions' or 'chemistry' between Hermione and Malfoy. Were those words a filler for the pheromones?_**

Luna, who seemed to not had heard anything of which was going on, turned around and set her large orb-like eyes on Malfoy. 'You're Draco Malfoy. You're not very nice.'

'Err… yes… right,' answered Malfoy, unnerved by the sight of this strange girl. He edged away a little.

'What are you doing here Malfoy? If you're just here to mock us in our "soiled and unredeemable" state, then go back to the loser corner.' Growled Ron. Hermione gave him an appraising look for a witty use of words which, coming from him, she had never heard before.

'Dumbledore wants a word with me, you, Granger and the other prefects straight away after breakfast.' With that, and a swish of immaculately pressed robes, he strutted away, half anxious to put as much distance between Luna – who was still staring at him – and him as possible, not knowing that she was from Ravenclaw therefore her seat was right behind his.

'Git,' muttered Ron under his breath.

'Bye Harry, Ron and Hermione!' said Luna rather cheerfully, and she skipped away.

**_The Reader is puzzled at the unnecessary use of Luna. Is this perhaps a distraction? He or She is also disappointed in the fact that Hermione is _****not**** _ignoring Ron. It would have made the story a few chapters shorter._**

'What could Dumbledore possibly want to say to us that he couldn't have said yesterday at the feast?' Hermione wondered out loud as she, with a small frown, slowly chewed on a piece of toast.

'Dunno.' Ron said, noisily shoveling down the rest of his breakfast while Hermione watched with a mild disgust.

'Back to that dream though,' said Harry, acting as if Malfoy hadn't pointlessly wasted five minutes of their time, 'what do you guys reckon?'

'Well,' said Hermione, putting her toast down, 'it does seem like you ate too much ice-cream before bed, but it's a little odd that you should be having a dream about Voldemort, when you haven't had one for months, especially that this one's so real…' she tailed off uncertainly.

'How's this theory? What if he still had another Horcrux hidden somewhere?' asked Ron excitedly.

'Ron, don't eat with your mouth open! It's repulsive.' Hermione wrinkled her nose.

Ron rolled his eyes while masticating his bacon, 'Fine.'

'We've been through this with Dumbledore, Ron. It _has_ to be six because therefore his soul would be in seven pieces. And anyway Harry, just because your scar hurt at _exactly_ the same time when you had that dream, doesn't mean that it's because of Voldemort. Maybe it's just a coincidence. Or, actually, I have read this book about curse scars where the curser is already deceased, so maybe-'

'You read way too much, Hermione.' said Ron through a forkful of sausage.

Hermione ignored that comment, 'Or maybe it's a warning, maybe there's another more dangerous event ahead, even though Voldemort's already dead. Maybe it's one of those foretelling dreams that are actually true. So it has absolutely nothing to do with Voldemort.'

'Will you quit saying his name?' asked Ron, his voice muffled by the plate that he was polishing off with his tongue.

Harry looked relieved. 'Thanks Hermione.'

'It's nothing,' though she looked pleased that she did something good. Just then the bell rang. 'Oh! Have fun in Defense Against the Dark Arts! And don't forget to tell us what the new professor's like.'

Hermione hurried off (dragging a grumpy Ron who wanted to finish his orange juice) to the Head Girl, Head Boy and Prefects meeting, leaving Harry to walk on his own to DADA. They were having a new teacher this year who Dumbledore mentioned might be going to stay for good, since the curse Voldemort set was gone.

**_The Reader, who might want to be called something else – well, too bad – is exasperated with the overuse of the whole 'Malfoy is also Head Boy' plot. Who in their right mind would make him Head Boy? Even if Lucius was using money and influence, Dumbledore would never be a corrupt person to elect Malfoy as Head Boy._**

0o0o

His steps filled the silence of the room and he sighed.

Draco Malfoy had already arrived at the meeting place and was waiting for the rest of the people to do the same.

He already knew what Dumbledore was going to tell them, and because of that, he was in a bad mood throughout breakfast which had not been helped by the _cruel_ and _thoughtless_ jibe that that bushy haired, buck-tooth, molared, mudblood and rather common and plain looking Granger had thrown at him.

How can they think him as an albino ferret? It was outrageous! He had a good figure, he had some type of skill, he had… looks and more importantly, he had a girlfriend! He didn't see Potty or Weasel with a girlfriend. He didn't really _like _his girlfriend, and speaking of girlfriends-

'Drakie-poo!' came an annoying squeal.

-he really hoped that Pansy wasn't the first person to arrive after him… but here she was.

Pansy was sashaying towards him in a way in which she probably supposed was attractive, but in truth, it just made her _rear end_ wiggle.

He had no idea what made her think she was so attractive. Her mirror was probably broken.

When she attempted to sit on his lap, he pushed her off, making her land with a thump on the floor. 'Dr-a-a-c-o-o,' she whined, 'don't you want me to show you a surprise?'

'No!' he tried to get rid of her by being nice. 'Just, just please leave me alone Pansy. Really, please.'

'Why on earth would you want _me _to leave you alone? I'm your _girlfriend_. I _have _to be with you, or what's the point?'

She had a good reason there. And the niceness didn't work after all.

'Why do I listen to my parents?' he muttered. He changed seats, leaving her to try and figure out what he just said.

She stood up to try and scramble after him, but in the nick of time, the rest of the people started to arrive. She slowly sank back into her chair as other people racketed around, filling their seats, with a pouting expression on her face.

Granger sat next to Draco, as Head Girl and Boy needed to sit next to each other. He thought it really unfair. Whatever happened to free will and sitting with whoever you liked?

Weasel sat next to Granger, and they talked in low hushed voices, making sure that no one else could hear them. Draco leant to his left sideways slightly, to hear what they were talking about and possibly using the information for future blackmail.

0o0o

**_The Reader thinks it's unfair that She or He cannot give His or Her opinion when it's Draco's POV. Oh well._**

'You were only saying that to make him feel better, weren't you?'

'For once in your life, Ron, you actually noticed something.'

'Don't make fun of me Hermione. How could he-'

'Not now Ron!' hissed Hermione. She inclined her head towards Malfoy who then looked away with an unconvincing air of innocence.

'What did you hear Malfoy?'

'I have better things to do than to listen to other people's conversations.'

Which wasn't actually true, since his life _depended _one listening to other people's conversations.

Before she or Ron could say more, Dumbledore came in. At once the chattering stopped, and everybody focused their attention on him.

His face had far, far more lines than normally and for once in his life; he looked the part of a tired old man.

'Prefects and Heads,' here, he gave Hermione and Malfoy and little smile, 'a student in our midst is in danger.'

Everyone except for Malfoy gasped. His head was bowed and his face was unfathomable.

'Mister Malfoy here,' and everyone's head swiveled and craned to look at him, 'had, in the later part of the summer holidays, unknowingly come across an illegal dragon trade gathering. Of course, the dragon traders tried to do away with him, and he barely escaped with his life. His parents wish for the school to protect their son, as it can provide all sorts of enchantments and spells to shelter him from the harm of being hunted down by them. He will be kept in one House which will help defend him. That is why I have asked for you all to come here today to this meeting.'

Prefects from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw all shifted uncomfortably in their seat. None of them wanted to "protect" – as Dumbledore had said – Malfoy.

'I have already decided, so Mister Malfoy will be moved into the dormitories of that House and stay there for the rest of the year until the Ministry of Magic, to whom his parents have reported to, has caught the dragon traders.'

Now everyone looked even more uncomfortable. Protecting was one thing, but living in and sharing their common rooms and dormitories?

Malfoy had already known that others would feel this way. 'Professor, can't I just stay in Slytherin?'

Dumbledore chuckled a bit.

'I take that you would prefer to stay in your own House, Mister Malfoy?'

'Yes… sir.'

'The traders are a set of highly intelligent escaped ex-Death Eaters who, until recently, were hiding in Paris, and they will stop at nothing to capture and kill you. Their dragon trading is their only livelihood these days. They know that you reside in the House of Slytherin, so therefore, it is the first place they will search for you if they ever manage to find a way to get into this school. Therefore, although I know all of you are willing enough to take Draco Malfoy into your Houses,' many people coughed loudly or expressed incredulous looks, but Dumbledore carried on as if nothing had happened, 'he must stay in the least likely place. I have arranged for him to stay in Gryffindor for the rest of the year. Miss Granger and Mister Weasley, will you be kind enough to escort him back to your common room?'

But Hermione, Ron and Malfoy were all too horrified to move.

'He has to _WHAT_?' shouted Hermione and Ron.

'I have to _WHAT_?' yelled Malfoy, eyes bulging and apoplectic with rage. 'I agreed for protection knowing people would laugh at me! If these traders are so intelligent, then why are they hunting me instead of fleeing for their lives?'

But Dumbledore just smiled serenely and gave no answer nor explanation. Instead he said, 'Calm yourselves down. At dinner, I will inform the rest of the school about our arrangement, just in case there will be misunderstandings. My word, rumors spread fast these days.'

And with that, he strode out of the room, leaving a shocked silence as everybody contemplated on what kind of chaos and fiascos would ensue for the rest of the year.

**_The Reader is confused. And has many objections and plot lines that seem far more better than the current one. But this story is by _****Someone Else****_. There is nothing the Reader can do but to keep reading and make do with what's available. _**

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**A/N: I think everything's quite clear… just review. Okay? Just. Review.**


	3. Bawlin', Cryin', Almost Dyin'

**Disclaimer: Bleh. **

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**Bawlin', Cryin', Almost Dyin'**

'My poor Drakie-poo! To be cooped up all alone with those nasty people!'

These words went straight through the air with a _whoosh_ like an axe swishing down just before an execution.

**_The Reader hopes to see some change. She or He is impatient to read the rest of the story. _**

The shocked silence went away and snickers ricocheted through the room.

'Nice girlfriend, Malfoy,' someone whispered from across the room. Malfoy looked around, glaring, trying to find the culprit.

The room erupted to the little sounds of 'Wait until I tell Daphne!' or 'Finally that prick is going to be punished!' or 'And it's not even our House protecting him!'

The younger Slytherin prefects felt a little sorry for Malfoy and as everyone walked out of the door, walked over to give him a little comfort and well-wishes that didn't help. They had unknowingly intensified Malfoy's deep-hidden fear of Gryffindors.

Students filed out of the room, with the exception of Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy – still looking as scandalized and appalled as a few minutes ago.

**_The Reader now sees a concealed funny side of the story, or so the Author hopes. _**

0o0o

Weasley's face had a green tinge to it, with a look on his face suggesting a spider had crawled into his mouth. Pansy had the sour expression of someone who didn't get what they had wanted. Granger was breathing in and out to calm herself down and Draco had turned ashen grey and found it slightly hard to breathe.

His parents were mad. Stark, raving, mad. What on earth were they thinking? Entrusting him into the hands of Dumbledore? The weird guy who liked that random muggle candy?

And what on earth was _Dumbledore_ thinking? He would be killed even faster in the hands of these… _people_, than at the hands of the illegal dragon traders. Who probably weren't going to even hunt him down because they were too busy trying to flee for their own lives! Damn his parents and their good intentions, damn his Headmaster and his senile ideas!

Arrrrrgh! He couldn't take this anymore!

'I can't take this anymore!' he screamed.

**_The Reader blinks. Oh! Good, now the Reader can also comment while it's Draco's POV. _**

The others stared at him.

'You're not the only one complaining Malfoy. I'm with you on this one.' Muttered Weasley.

Pansy scooted next to Draco.

Draco scooted away.

Pansy scooted even more closer.

Draco scooted further away.

Pansy sidled up close to the point where she would have the opportunity to give him a good luck kiss.

Draco fell off his chair.

Finally Granger started to lose control and cry.

0o0o

At about fifteen minutes after Hermione and Ron had left for the meeting, Harry arrived at the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom. Which was located in the Divinations classroom, for some odd reason.

'Good morning.' Whispered an eerily familiar voice behind Harry. Several other people looked stunned, some look apprehensive. Lavender and Parvati looked rather surprised.

He slowly turned around – heart sinking with the dread of having to face another year of boredom at school, especially since it was his last year – expecting Professor Trelawney. But it wasn't her.

0o0o

'Why?' moaned Hermione, 'why in the name of God, did you _have _to accidentally come across an illegal dragon smuggling committee meeting? Why couldn't they have just killed you? Why-'

'Shut up Granger, you're not the only one wishing-'

Half an hour had passed, and all four of them were still in the room. Contemplating and nursing emotional pangs of unhappiness.

She ignored him and rambled on.

'_Why _do you have to stay in Gryffindor? Why couldn't you be in Hufflepuff?'

'That, Miss Granger, is an excellent question.'

Everyone jumped when they heard Dumbledore speak behind them. They had not realized that he had walked into the room.

'Between you, me, Mister Malfoy, Mister Weasley and Miss Parkinson, it is another one of those, if you will excuse me, brilliant ideas of mine. Even my brain surprises me sometimes.' He smiled serenely at them all. 'Toffee apples?'

'Uh… sir?' asked Malfoy.

'Hmm?' Dumbledore answered.

'Why _did _you decide to put me into Gryffindor? Wouldn't another house have been better? Isn't _Hufflepuff_the least likely house that I would be found in? Besides, wouldn't the dragon smugglers just search every house as soon as they find out that I'm not in Slytherin anymore? Assuming that they're not running for their lives… in which case you can send me back to Slytherin.' He crossed his fingers hopefully.

'Yes,' said Dumbledore slowly, as if just realizing that he had made a mistake, 'Hufflepuff _would _seem like the most unlikely house that I would likely put you into, and they _would_search every house sooner or later, but – not to worry – Gryffindor has the most protection, as it has more spells and enchantments around it.'

'_What_?' exclaimed Hermione, Ron, Parkinson and Malfoy.

'Wait,' said Malfoy to Hermione, 'you _didn't _know?'

'Well it wasn't in _Hogwarts a History_!' snapped Hermione.

'Quite rightly so.' Agreed Dumbledore. 'The other houses wouldn't have liked it if they found out Gryffindor was more protected than they were. It would give them a feeling of insecurity.'

There was a silence.

'Couldn't _every _house have more spells injected into them?' asked Malfoy, desperately seeking a way out of Gryffindor hell. 'Is it really that difficult to do?'

'Not really, but the staff of Hogwarts have always found it unnecessary to do so. Besides, we all love Gryffindor. You, Mr. Malfoy will reside in Gryffindor until the danger is over and the Ministry has captured those dragon smugglers. Now, what's with all these long faces?' he looked around at the bemused faces of Hermione, Ron, Malfoy and Parkinson. 'Off you go to class. I think that you are all expecting a new DADA professor.'

0o0o

'P-professor _Trelawney_?' stammered Lavender.

'It's not her!' whispered Harry. But how similar she looked! The same magnified glasses, the same shawls and bangles. But then he noticed that the professor looked quite young, almost the same age as him. She might even have looked pretty if her bizarre accessories were taken off.

'Yes.' She affirmed. 'I am not Professor Trelawney. I am… Professor Le Trawney.' The last word came out in a whisper.

'Isn't that an anagram of "Trelawney"?' asked Neville. Everybody turned around in their chairs and stared at him.

'What?' he demanded heatedly, his chubby face reddening at having spoken up. 'Just because I'm clumsy and I don't do well at Potions or Transfiguration or a few other subjects or-'

'We get the point!' shouted a Slytherin as Neville continued to digress.

'-but that doesn't mean that I'm stupid because I know what "anagram" means!'

'Ahem…' Le Trawney. 'I will make it clear in this lesson that I am not related in any way to Sybil Trelawney and, unlike your previous professors, I will be staying… _forever_.'

'Forever?' asked Harry.

'Well, nothing lasts _forever_, but yes, for the foreseeable future, anyway.'

**_The Reader has not expressed His or Her feelings for a long time, so now wishes to do so. Okay, She or He is done. _**

0o0o

At lunchtime, Hermione and Ron filled Harry in on what had happened at the meeting, and what was to come in store for them.

'Dumbledore let _Malfoy _live in the Gryffindor common room?' said Harry incredulously. 'Do you think this has something to do with the dream?'

'Perhaps. We'll see.' Said Hermione sadly, with a shake of her head. Harry started to rummage in his bag.

'But you're Head Girl and Boy! Don't you two have a common room all to yourself?' asked Ron.

'Have you ever seen Percy living somewhere else when he was Head?' Hermione snapped. 'Honestly Ron, keep up with the times.'

Ron opened his mouth to retort, but Harry cut him off with a 'Here it is!'

'Here what is?' asked Ron. He looked closer and widened his eyes.

'What?' Hermione craned her neck around Ron's tall frame to look. 'Oh, Harry. Harry, Harry, _Harry_! You don't mean that you keep that rubbish in you _bag_ do you?'

She gave him a disgusted look which he decided to ignore.

'_Unfogging the Future_' he read out loud. 'Chapter Eight – Dreams.' He flipped a few more pages.

'That won't tell you anything!' exclaimed Hermione. 'For muggles, dreams are fragments of secreted memories and pieces of their subconscious. For wizards, books like these are just shams!'

She snatched the book away.

'Don't do this, Hermione!' said Harry irritably. 'You have any other books that can explain this?'

'No, but I will so-'

'Good,' interrupted Ron. 'Let's read: "_If you dream of an enemy, bad things will come: it is your… destiny."_'

They looked at each other in shock.

'Malfoy.' They said in unison.

0o0o

Draco couldn't handle it. He was in too much stress. Pansy was stroking him with painfully long nails. Blaise Zabini was trying not to laugh. Crabbe and Goyle were just staring at him, a little too dumb to contemplate the future disasters to come, but having the minimum IQ to understand what it meant for him: no menacing bodyguards. The Golden Three-o were glaring at him to kill. And…

'Oh god, is that a _white hair_?' he shrieked. He thought he saw a white hair on his goblet reflection.

Blaise sighed. 'It's pale blond, idiot.'

Draco turned ever-so-slightly pink. 'At least you don't have the stress of living with the… Gryffindorks. Especially _those _ones.' He nodded at the boys in his grade (Seamus, Dean, Neville, Ron and Harry). 'I have to share a dormitory with _them_. I might die.'

Blaise sighed again. 'At least you won't have to cope with Nott's snoring.'

'I don't snore!'

'So you say, dear Nott.'

0o0o

'Malfoy will not reincarnate Voldemort. Malfoy will not reincarnate Voldemort.' Harry chanted over and over again.

'Shut up Harry! I'm trying to think. Besides, people are giving you strange looks.' They weren't really, but she'd give anything for quiet and peace. 'Why do you think all of this is about Voldemort?'

'Why else would he dream of him?' demanded Ron.

'Well, why can't we just assume that the dream meant that all that's going to happen is that Malfoy will just wreck a lot of havoc on our lives?'

'That's even worse!' cried Ron.

'Well, _I'd _prefer to wake up with Malfoy that to find out that Voldemort's been reincarnated.' Shrugged Hermione.

Ron and Harry stared at her.

'I don't mean "wake up" as in _that way_!' they continued staring. 'Oh, _boys_!' she huffed. 'Only _you _would think in that way.'

But their attention had been diverted to Dumbledore who was making an announcement.

'Attention pupils!' his voice rang out. 'Due to Mr. Malfoy accidentally stumbling upon an ex-Death Eater dragon smugglers meeting, as most of you have read in the Daily Prophet,' he added, 'his parents have decided to allow me to replace him in Gryffindor. It is-' he was interrupted by cries of outrage:

'They'll kill him!' shouted the Slytherins.

'You mean _he'll_ kill _us_!' roared the Gryffindors. 'He'll massacre us in our sleep!'

'How can you do this?' screamed the Gryffindors and the Slytherins at the staff in unison.

'Hey look! Malfoy's fainted! He's fainted!' shrieked a first year Hufflepuff girl.

Everyone stopped shouting and turned to look at Malfoy.

'My Drakie-poo!' cried Pansy.

She started to run to him, but Dumbledore – getting there before her – flung out an arm to stop her. He crouched down and examined Malfoy's still body, Pansy whimpering.

He gasped, and looked up at everybody, with a look of seemingly mild surprise.

'He's… dead.'

**_The Reader is surprised._**

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**A/N: Thanks to the people who reviewed the last chapter of 'Not You Too!'. I have nothing to say to those who didn't...**


	4. Ha, Ha, Hee, Hee! Blackmail!

**Disclaimer: Mmmm… Harry Potter cake…**

**

* * *

Ha, Ha, Hee, Hee. Blackmail! For the Future.**

Gasps rang across the Hall as students whispered to each other in unison: 'Dead?'

Suddenly!

**_'Oh no!' cries the Reader who doesn't know what's happening, but cries out anyway just for the sake of it. The Reader reads on._**

Chuckles echoed from wall to wall. At first, everyone assumed that it was coming from Filch because he hated students and wished for so long for one of them to die, but it dawned upon the students' tiny little brains malfunctioning ears that the chuckles were coming from…

… Dumbledore.

_**'Huh?'**_

Dumbledore looked around and smiled with serene amusement. 'Ah, the joy of jokes. I've always wanted to proclaim a student dead even though they weren't. That was the downside of taking the Dementors away – no more fainting. Ah, well… ha, ha.'

'_"Ha, ha"?_' demanded Draco, who had just woken up. 'I'm going to be re-sorted into the hands of clumsy homicidal enemies because of my parents crazy scheme of asking _you _of all people for help _and _I'm going to have to sleep with Potter and Weasley _and _I faint in front of the whole student population _AND _I'm going to inevitably _die_ _in a_ _dark and disconcertingly deserted area because of a dishonest Death Eater dragon smuggling directive and ALL YOU CAN SAY IS "HA, HA"?_'

But Dumbledore was unperturbed by this livid state of affairs pouring from Draco's mouth.

'Oh yes, thank you for reminding me,' he said thoughtfully. '_Hee,_ _hee!_ Severus, do give your student a block of chocolate for such an attentive comment and good alliteration while in dire stress.'

The Slytherin professor stared at the hypothetically crazy Headmaster as if willing him to realize that the last thing that would be hidden in _his _pockets would be a bar of chocolate. He groaned, covered his face with his long pale hands and mumbled a 'five points to Slytherin' into the gaps of his fingers.

0o0o

'Harry?' asked Hermione tentatively. 'Are you okay?'

No reply.

'Mate…' said Ron slowly, 'are you _crying?_'

_**And the Reader finally cracks a smile as She or He realizes that Malfoy had only fainted.**_

**_This is where the Author comes in. The Author – who has a gender and a name but will only reveal the gender – has come to punish the Reader._**

**_'What did I do?' screams the Reader in anguish, not wanting to be dragged away from the story. 'Why am I reading this paragraph marked in Bold and Italics? Why are you here?'_**

**_She, because the Author – who is me – is a 'she', does not reply. She whacks the Reader on the back of the head, and drags the crumpling and unconscious body out of a door which has just appeared. The Reader had wasted a lot of valuable time objecting or complaining or whatever when the Reader could have just read the damn story! The Author has arrived because the Author will not waste her own or the story's valuable time!_**

**_The Author starts narrating to herself while crunching her popcorn._**

'No I'm not crying, Ron!' howled Harry. 'I never cry!' He raised his head and wiped his eyes (because they had something stuck in them) and sniffed (because his nose was blocked by the things that block noses).

'You'd cry at our funerals, though, right Harry?' Ginny had come over from her own little group.

Harry smiled fondly at her through his blurry eyes which were not the result of tears. 'I'd cry at your funeral, Gin. But maybe not Ron's.'

'That's not fair!' huffed Ron. He bit his shepherd's pie.

'Is fair.' Laughed Harry. His face fell again when it occurred to him about something. 'I can't believe Malfoy has to live with us! The idea didn't seem half as real until Dumbledore told the school.'

'Bo we ave backmai!' said Ron through the gravy in his mouth.

'Pardon?' asked Hermione.

'I think he means, "But we have blackmail."' Said Ginny.

'I guess. Well, we can always laugh at the fact that he fainted in front of the school.' Hermione said.

'Or turn him into a ferret again. Or dress him up in pink robes like his dad wore in my dream!' said Harry, losing all previous fears and becoming intensely excited. Ginny looked at him curiously.

'You had a dream about Lucius Malfoy?'

'Nightmare, actually. I'll explain.'

0o0o

'Draco, how much stuff do you have in that trunk?' asked Blaise in disbelief, as he stared at the contents strewn around Draco's bed. Draco was currently lounging on Nott's bed and chewing on a piece of chocolate, given to him by a red-faced Snape who muttered something about crazy seers, Dumbledore and Legilimency.

'It's not that much. Just a few items of clothing, my cauldron, a chess set, some pocket money, my broom, my private pillow, a blanket, stationary, ink bottles, books, a brick for killing Potter and food.'

'Right. Aren't you going to go soon?'

'Just another half an hour.' He mumbled.

'You've been here for one hour already. And what if Pansy comes?'

'_Then _I will go.'

'Drakie!' shrilled a voice outside. 'Are you there?'

Draco jumped to his feet and threw all his belongings into his trunk. He stuffed his trunk into a wardrobe and jumped into it. 'Tell me when she's gone Blaise!'

Pansy swayed in only to find a bemused Blaise who seemed entranced by the wardrobe in front of him.

**_The Author signals for the Reader (who is bound and gagged in a corner) to jump back, unties the Reader's hands and forces the Reader to type a complimentary and full of praise review. _**

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****

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	5. Where's the Bathroom?

**Where's the Bathroom? Who's the Author?**

'So, this is where the Golden Three-o live.' Smirked Draco, as his gaze wandered between the squashy armchairs, while he peered at the fireplace. A fire was not lit yet, as there were people – namely him, Granger, Weasley and Potter who were assigned to be his 'armaments', as Dumbledore had suggested with a wink – inside the common room, and good little house-elves were never seen and never heard – a fact which he suspected Granger strongly protested against.

_He had escaped from Pansy by persuading Blaise to distract her, and actually felt glad when he saw the Golden Trio waiting impatiently for him. He had snapped at them to run but then Dumbledore appeared and it was no longer necessary because Pansy never seemed to have the guts to chase him when a professor was around._

_Students had stared at the little group led by a humming Dumbledore and Draco had felt the urge to hide behind the trunk that both he, Potter and Weasley were holding together. 'What do you put in here, Malfoy?' the redhead had grumbled. 'Bricks?' The fact that he did have one brick inside was completely beside the point because he thought the trunk was as light as a feather. He was ignorant of the fact that most of its weight had rested on the much stronger physiques of Potter and Weasley._

_When they arrived at the entrance, he was a little awed by the immense rolls of fat in the folds of the dress worn by the portrait, even saying so by telling her that, wow, she needed a diet. She retaliated by slamming the round door close on his foot, causing him to trip and give a cry of pain muffled by a mouthful of the floor. Granger, who was directly in front of him, did not give him a hand up, saying sweetly, 'Wouldn't want to dirty your hand with my germs, would I, Malfoy?' Dumbledore then turned around and levitated him up and gave instructions to the four of them._

'You either stay, Ferret, or you can go and get captured and eaten alive by those dragon smugglers.' Retorted Granger rather sharply.

He continued smirking and said, 'We good ol' Death Eaters don't resort to cannibalism, Granger. There are worse things. Now, where's the bathroom?'

'The what-room?' replied Weasley.

'The_ bath_-room, Weasel. Where is the bathroom?'

'The bath-what?' asked Potter, confused.

'The_ BATHROOM_, b-a-t-h-r-o-o-m. You know?' Draco was getting annoyed, and was sure that those two were doing it on purpose, just for the sake of irritating him away from their common room.

'The what-what?' stressed Potter and Weasley.

'Arrgh! The _bathroom_! The loo! The toilet! _Des toilettes_!_ Il bagno_!' he yelled, though he doubted someone like Potter or Weasel knew how to speak _French _and_ Italian_. 'The place where you have shower curtains and marble tiles and soaps that make you all bubbly and shampoo and conditioners and taps and _seats where you can squat or RELIEVE YOURSELVES IN!_'

_**The Author suddenly stops and gasps. She had been so engaged in trying to create good text and narrating that piece of good text, that she hadn't stopped to think! The Harry Potter books never mentioned anyone waking up in the middle of night to go to some unmentioned room in the dorm called the toilet! Gah! She had forgotten the bathroom!**_

'Do you hear that?' Draco cocked his head to one side, cupping his hands around his left ear and listening intently. 'I swear I just heard the rant of a haphazardly frustrated female sitting in the corner. Granger, was that you?'

'We're the only ones around here at this time. Everybody else is at dinner._ We _are skipping dinner to help you pack. You'd better be grateful.'

'Yeah, yeah.' He turned around to Potter and Weasley. 'Do you people hear anything?'

_**No! The Author realizes that the reason they are hearing the 'rant of a haphazardly frustrated female sitting in the corner' was because she was the female sitting in the corner screaming! She could not stay anymore, or else, she would become a character, because she was also writing herself into the story!  
**_

They had stared at him suspiciously, but then widened their eyes when they heard a scream coming from near the fireplace. The three boys, forgetting their enmity, rushed to the corner and patted the walls with their bare hands, while Granger watched them in confusion. _She _had not heard anything.

_**Ha! At least the Author still has an ounce of control over Hermione!**_

But now she did. She was sure she also heard a crazy female voice. She joined the boys in their search. They felt nothing until one of them poked at a brick that secretly held the lock between reality and the imagined reality of fictional characters. They had a momentary vision of a young woman with black hair and plastic Armani framed glasses, plastered with a startled look on her face. She ran away and dragged a gagged person back, and the vision disappeared.

_**The Author dragged the gagged Reader back and disappeared. The Reader starts reading in shaky breaths. Everything started back to the bit where Draco said:**_

'Now, where's the bathroom?'

'There's one in every dormitory, but you can just go to the one in the dormitory you'll be sleeping in, instead of the ones in other dormitories. Just in case the other Gryffindors think you're some type of pervert.' answered Granger briskly and without embarassment.

He nodded without saying anything – no use fighting anymore, he had to try to be nicer to them in case they tried to kill him in his sleep – when the door opened to reveal the youngest of the Weasley clan, looking slightly more attractive than her brother.

'Weaslette.' He said in way of greeting.

'Son of the bastard who got me possessed by the seventeen year old soul of an evil dark wizard.' She greeted back.

'Touché, sister of the spattergroit victim, touché. Well, at least your common room actually has bathrooms. I heard the Hufflepuff one doesn't have any. What are they going to do when they wake up in the middle of the night wanting to go? Break curfew?'

'They have chamber pots, I think,' said Weasley.

It seemed unbelievable, but they were actually having a proper conversation, without insults and without the metaphorical grappling of the throats.

For a moment, Draco felt like he was in the past – he was a first year on the Hogwarts train, and he was excited without revealing his feelings to anyone. He was walking on the way to the famous Harry Potter's compartment, and he had the climbing surge of exhilaration, of anticipation that Potter might accept him as his friend, that even though he was away from the safety of his home, he would be…

Happy? No, no. That was not it. He could not remember what it was.

_**He would have friends? Suggested the Reader, knowing in His or Her heart that this was the true answer that the Author intended.**_

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**A/N: I'm sorry if this chapter wasn't that funny, even though none of the previously chapters seemed that funny either. But I wanted it to have a slight sentimental quality, so people don't think, 'OMG! Draco is such a callous monster!' He should be shown to have feelings, that he does think of friendship (because we know that he and Blaise in reality aren't exactly friends). That way, he can deserve Hermione when the time comes for them to hookup. And please don't neglect the review button.**


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